Pumpkin Cake and Pound Cake lay in the makeshift cradle, quietly snoozing the day away while wrapped in gentle dreams. Pinkie envied them, in some ways. They really had no idea what the world was like out there, nor did they seem to recognize their daddy had gone away… and wasn’t going to come back. Their general happiness didn’t seem to waver much, though, and for that Pinkie was glad.

She gently tucked the blanket around them and slipped into her boots, tossing the hoof-knit scarf around her neck and giving it a little tug. Thus adorned, she slipped out into the cold of a winter come far too early. Still, cold though it was, the camp had taken it in stride. Pinkie instinctively ducked under a hurled snowball and had to quickly dash across the hoofbeaten path to get out of the way of the ongoing snow-war. Ponies versus Griffons today, though any day might bring any number of scenarios.

It was part of what Scipio, the griffon leader, had called ‘the old ways of teaching.’ Everypony in camp had to participate in the activities, which could include everything from snowball fights to practice warfare with real, though blunted, weapons. For Pinkie it was a little frightening to see so many of her former friends and neighbors girding themselves in dull metal armor, strapping lances and spears to themselves and thundering across open fields in coordinated charges.

She knew why they were preparing. She knew why the forges of the Griffons rang day and night with the sounds of pounding hammers, and why the earth ponies who knew the arts of metalworking were divulging their secrets to the griffon smiths. She knew why dear, sweet Scootaloo stalked about the camp in a brilliant red cloak, quietly speaking to some and barking orders at others. She knew why Zecora had begun brewing vast cauldrons full of potions, with the eager assistance of so many of the town's foals.

She knew why, but she didn’t want to think about any of it. It hurt to think about what was happening here, and how she might have had a hoof in making it all happen. And just like every time she started thinking about it, a gentle leg roped around her neck. “C’mon, Pinkie.” That was Berry Punch, once the town souse and liquor distributor. She’d been friends with Pinkie as long as Pinkie had been friends with anyone in Ponyville, since good parties required good liquor.

The leg tugged her out of the spot where she’d frozen, and she trotted along as happily as anypony could who had to deal with the thoughts she had to deal with. Cherry led her past a group of unicorns standing in a circle of clean and blasted earth, lined up side by side as the grizzle-bearded wizard stalked amongst them, growling instructions. “You gotta stop doing that, Pinkie,” Berry muttered, and just like always, Pinkie nodded a little.

She knew what Berry was talking about, but it was kinda hard not to think about those things. Kinda like it was hard not to think of pink elephants or blue heffalumps. “Sorry, Boo Berry,” Pinkie piped up, putting on her best party-pony smile. She really wasn’t quite as sadfaced as she felt sometimes, it was just… tough sometimes. “I know. Things aren’t so bad.” That was kind of hard to say, but Pinkie had to believe it. She just had to.

She had to believe she’d get her friends back. She had to believe this would all end, and that Mrs. Cake and her babies would be safe and- She stopped her thought, smacking herself silly for a moment and taking in a deep breath. “Sorry,” she whispered again, and Berry just nodded. Pinkie sucked in as much of the cold air as she could and blew it out in one go. “I am not going to let this stop me! I am Pinkie Pie, hear me roar!” she exclaimed, and then did her very best big-kitty, “MEOW!”

A bright giggle followed her exclamation, and Pinkie was indeed very happy to see Mrs. Cake, bundled up in a fuzzy coat and scarf and boots of her own, smiling at her. “Cute, Pinkie. I take it the twins are asleep?” It wasn’t really a question, but Pinkie nodded enthusiastically anyway. “Good… They’ve been sleeping much more regularly lately.” Mrs. Cake chafed her hooves together, but the broad smile never left her face. “Which is good. It’s tough to keep this camp in baked bread, even without those two waking up at all hours.”

Pinkie had to giggle a little at that one, and felt her real-smiley face beaming through. It did that a lot when Mrs. Cake was smiling too. “Don’t worry, Miss Cake. I’ll keep those two cuties out of trouble.” She winked cheerfully, and Mrs. Cake smiled brightly at her, giving her a soft cheek nuzzle before trotting off down the path toward the mess tents. Which was kind of a funny name for food-tents when Pinkie thought about it, but there were a lot of funny things about war and fighting.

She turned to find Berry Punch grinning at her, like she’d just downed two bottles of wine. “You are such a sop, Pinkie Pie.” Her hoof came up and ruffled Pinkie’s poofy mane, then gestured vaguely. “Go take care of th’ camp, but drop by Zecora’s place later. We got some things we’d like to ask you about stuff.” She arched an eyebrow at her, in a funny sort of serious way. “Important stuff.” Then she was gone and, as odd as it was to see Berry Punch sober, she never lost that cute sway in her walk.

And there was a little piece of herself she couldn’t change back to the way it was, no matter how much she tried. Wherever she looked, though the little happy ball of Shadow was no longer with her, she couldn’t help but imagine ponies in a more… erotic sort of way. Even ones she probably shouldn’t have. It was like she’d suddenly generated a brand new habit, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it yet. So she sighed, shook her head, and kept walking. There were lots of little things she had to do today, and she wasn’t getting them done by sitting here like a lemon.

“Actually, I wonder why it’s always a lemon and not some other fruit…” she mused, quickly picking up speed. Distractions. That’s what she needed. Distractions and other stuff to do, so she couldn’t think too much about the frowny bits. That meant the million and one little things that could make a tough situation more bearable, and she was the best pony in the world to make those things happen.

The entire camp had expanded significantly, but had also tightened up. All of the camp now bunked down near one another, the neat orderly tents of the Griffons interspersed with the more unusual and off-beat tents of the ponies, combined with the black ornate tents of the batponies that were slowly streaming into camp made for a disorganized clutter. But there was a unifying factor to the whole camp - a single banner now flew from every staff. The individual banners of the various factions who settled here had been discarded in favor of one, that of the once Cutie Mark Crusaders.

Scootaloo had asked her at length about Sweetie Belle and Applebloom. Pinkie had told her all she could, having known the pair of fillies were in good health and mostly okie-dokie as far as she knew. They hadn’t been singled out or hurt or anything, but things could have changed since Pinkie left Ponyville. Then again… no, she was certain that Twilight wouldn’t let that happen. Whatever else might have changed, Twilight wouldn’t hurt little foals like that. It wasn’t in her.

Pinkie huffed in frustration and shook her head hard, then quickly picked up her hooves. She would focus on the foals first, then. It was tough to organize real parties out here, but she managed. Sometimes a good party just needed color, laughter, and something fun to do that wasn’t warlike.

The day was as much a blur as anything then, and she threw herself into her special talent with as much fervor as she ever had before. A comedy bit here, a few bright balloons there, a well timed mug of cocoa over yonder. It was the little things that kept a town going, especially if ponies were too busy to realize it. She was the best there was at keeping those little things rolling, and it was one of the reasons Ponyville had always functioned so smoothly. It wasn’t really all that hard to apply the same concept to the camp.

Oh sure, there were a few grumpy gusses who didn’t trust her still, and a few Griffons who had looked at her with an odd mixture of respect and dislike, but most of the camp knew why she’d come back. They knew why she’d left her bestest best friend in the whole world and- “No!” she half screamed at herself, ducking behind a thick tree and ducking her head down, breathing as steadily as she could. “No. This is not you, Pinkie. It isn’t.” She tried being firm, like Mr. Cake had been when she…

She broke down again. Or rather, her brain broke down like a worn out old engine. Just slowly rolled to a halt, and she wrapped her hoofsies around her chest and leaned against the tree. What had she been thinking? Or had she even been thinking? Or did thinking have anything to do with it at all? She couldn’t… why had this all gone wrong? Why had it all turned bad? It seemed like such an obvious thing, so obviously wonderful that… that she’d never asked why ponies didn’t like it. She never even thought about asking. Was that what had happened to her friends, too?

Pinkie didn’t realize what was going on around her for a long, long time, then. Lost in her thoughts turning over and over, like that same worn engine that just couldn’t find it in itself to crank up again... until gentle hooves uncurled her forelegs and fluffed her mane back to proper poofiness. The pony tugged at her hoof gently. “Come on, Pinks. Hup up.” That was… a familiar voice. A very familiar voice. She looked up to the white coat, but the white coat didn’t have the elegant mane. No… It had a much wilder one, and was accompanied by bright sunglasses. She found herself stumbling to her hooves. “That’s right. Sittin' down in the snow ain’t no fun.”

Vinyl Scratch half smiled at her and pulled on her hoof toward a large clearing full of simmering cauldrons. “Sheesh, you look… Like I did.” Her happiness turned into a frown, a look of crushed defeat for a moment, then she shook it off. Replacing the sadness with a look of cool distance. “Come on, Pinks. We need to talk. All of us.”

Pinkie stared up at the once unflappable DJ. Even Scratchy had been changed by this insanity, and that hurt more than she had words for. But she couldn’t help but ask the obvious question, “All of who?”

“It’s the oldest rule of warfare. Snow ends campaigns,” Winterlight growled, as she leaned over the desk to stare down the ponies on the other side of it. “Nothing moves well in snow except for pegasi. Earth ponies hate it, and don’t get me started on unicorns.” She slammed her hoof into the desk, and the other ponies winced away from it. At least no one had any lack of respect for her after her goal-line stand on the bridge.

She lifted the hoof and exhaled. She had to be calm. Mistress Twilight had been very firm on that score. “Look. You go put on sixty pounds of metal armor and try walking across un-shoveled landscape. You’re gonna be exhausted before you hit ten miles.” She brandished her hoof at the little knot of ponies in front of her desk. That one of those ponies was her effective ruler… “Ma’am, I know war. We don’t have enough pegasi to field a real unit of fighters in this kind of weather.” She threw up a hoof. "And yeah, I know about your... Hippogriffs." Winterlight felt her mouth twist at the name. She still was creeped out by the creatures. "A quarter of them are committed to holding the southern bridge, and the rest are the only thing keeping the Royal Guard from getting any ideas." She frowned, then half smiled. “Fortunately, this weather works for us too.”

“How?” Twilight Shadow asked, her eyes narrowed. She’d come back alone, via Shadow Travel. Umbra had stayed with the new army of… somethings that they now had. Winterlight was already planning how to use them to fix their lack of pegasi, but that was going to have to wait for things to thaw a bit.

Winterlight tilted her head for a moment. “The Guard is mostly comprised of earth ponies, and the Royal Guard is mostly unicorns. Pegasi still make up a big portion of both forces, but right now they’re all busy dealing with this shit weather.” She gestured vaguely into the sky. “The rest aren’t really in a good position to come after us here. Cloudsdale, if I know them, is probably in full panic mode dealing with all this rogue weather.”

Twilight nodded slowly, and Winterlight took a deep breath. “As for our… other enemies, Griffons are excellent winter fighters, no doubt. So is the Lunar Guard. But they’re dealing with a major numerical disadvantage in a straight-up fight, and I’m not going to hand them easy targets to blow up here. We’ve moved everything vital or vulnerable to Twilight Town for storage, along with most of the civilians in town. Ponyville’s really just a shell at this point.” She frowned again. She really didn’t like having to hold this town with a skeleton crew, but… well, command wasn’t always reasonable. “We’re really only holding it to keep from getting penned up in the Forest.”

Twilight nodded shortly again, then held up her hoof. “You said when I returned that you had a new battle plan. I would like to hear it.” She arched an eyebrow at Winterlight and the pegasus shivered a little. Twilight Shadow had changed somehow since she left for the Badlands. Whatever had happened down in those caves, there was something very much like the Nightmare in her eyes now.

Winterlight swallowed the lump in her throat and quickly got on to business. “Yes. If you’re truly interested in breaking Equestria, there’s only one way to do it.” She grabbed the map, the very old map that had been with her for countless decades. A battle plan that Nightmare Moon had never approved of, the one she’d been waiting for all her life. “The true heart of Equestrian power does not lie in Canterlot, no matter what some fools might tell you,” she began, unrolling the scroll with a slow smile. “Nor is it the fortress of Stalliongrad. Nor is it the Mage College of Baltimare. It is, and has always been centered, here.” She tapped the map with a satisfied grin. At last, she would have her chance to do what precious few pegasi had ever tried.

“Cloudsdale.”

Several hours later, her office had been cleared. Twilight had gone to spend time with her ‘friends’ and Winterlight collapsed into an exhausted heap in her chair. Twilight Shadow had been studying. Or Umbra was now feeding her mind directly, and Winterlight did not know which thought terrified her more. Now, only one other figure stood in her office, waiting silently for her to speak. “Are we agreed?” Winterlight growled at her, this infernal pegasus who had been upstaging her at nigh on every turn.

But Rainbow Dash nodded, once. “So long as you keep your end of the bargain, Captain. I’ll keep mine.” Her eyes were narrowed, and her voice was calm. “I’d suggest you don’t try to double cross me, either. Rarity is utterly devoted to her new life, and Applejack…” She turned her head away, her cheeks flushed red. “She isn’t capable. Just make sure when the time comes, if the time comes, you deliver on your promises, and we’ll be golden.”

Winterlight arched an eyebrow, wondering what that little byplay had been about. Still… “Agreed then. Let’s say no more of it.” She tapped the desk and felt her lips curl into a smile. “I won’t hesitate to say you’d have made a hell of an enemy, Dash. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pony twist her orders up as much as you have.” She chuckled softly and felt some of the tension rush out of her. More than anything else, Winterlight liked to have an escape route.

Dash nodded shortly. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Twilight.” She turned, then marched towards the door. “It always has been, even if she doesn’t realize it herself. But that’s okay.” She turned her head just before she walked out, her eye sharp and dangerous. “That’s why she’s got me.” And then, Rainbow Dash was gone, as fast as her name implied.

Winterlight exhaled softly and leaned back into the soft material of her chair, closing her eyes. It would be either the culmination of her military career, or the end of it. One way or another, she would return to the Nightmare. Such was her destiny, and the fate of all things. It was not like her to be introspective, but now might be the last time she would have the chance. She had always been the most loyal, always the one willing to carry out the Nightmare's commands no matter how dark or devious.

She had earned a terrible reputation for those acts, but never had she committed them in rancor. Contrary to what many said, she did not hate her enemies. They were merely her foes, determined by the whim of fate, battle, and her Queen. They could just as easily have been, or become her allies should the winds of war blow the right way. That was war. It was her art, her place in the world, and even if the ponies of Equestria had long ago abandoned their true roots as warriors, she would never do so.

Winterlight opened her eyes and plucked the quill from its stand, dipping it into the ink bottle slowly. Perhaps there was time to pen a little something, while the weeks of snow and ice passed. Something that would outlive her. On War had a nice ring to it.

General Clausewitz had not looked so alive and vital in years, and Cadence could not help but feel her cheer grow at his energy and verve. “Finally. A Princess who will let me command,” he enthused to her, his eyes bright and his mustache a-quiver. “I will need Prince Armor to lead our unicorns, of course,” he continued, waving his hoof frantically as he circled the War-Room table. “And Commander Derecho is the right sort of ruffian to lead the pegasi. Although you’ll have to tell me more of this… what was her name? Scootaloo?” He blew out his mustachio, looking quite enthusiastic.

Cadence couldn’t restrain her grin, hiding it behind a hoof as demurely as she could. “Yes, that’s her name. Odd for a pegasus, but she seems to have an affinity for two wheeled scooters, which she’s apparently incorporated into her fighting style.” That had been quite a shock to Cadence, to think of that little pegasus filly as some kind of warrior… but then, this conflict had changed so many of them already.

“Yes, yes! The one who seems determined to resurrect the Crusading Knights of Canterlot.” And at that, his eyes practically glowed with an inner fire. “I am authorizing the delivery of the proper lances and armor to her little camp, by the by. I do not give two bucks what the nobility thinks of it, either!” He slammed his hoof into the table edge, bristling with pride. “My grandsire was amongst the last of the Knights, and if I can see them returned to their glory, I shall do it, by Hurricane’s name!”

Then he calmed, in one of his famous changes of mood, to something more thoughtful. “We are going to be up against the wall, Princess. This snow is throwing every hope we have of mobilizing quickly into chaos. It will take time to ensure the farms and cities can pull themselves up by their bootstraps, and that will cost precious days.” He snatched up a stack of papers from the table, brandishing them at her. “Days you say we may not have. So. We must delay, delay, delay. That will mean doing something that will not be pleasant, Princess.”

Cadence nodded once, and the General sighed. “You do not understand. We have no choice about what we are to do if we are to gain enough time.” He grasped a long, telescoping metal rod and tugged it out to considerable length before tapping next to the southern seaside town. “We must turn Baltimare into the Stalliongrad of the south.”

Cadence felt her mouth go dry at that sentiment. No one in in the military left the academies without learning of the most famous of all Equestrian fortresses. Stalliongrad had been built quite literally into a mountainside. It bristled with turrets, earthwork defenses, solid stone walls, and more. It had also been the site of countless, bloody sieges down through the centuries, and time and again it had broken forces that had tried to conquer Equestria. No army in history had broken Stalliongrad. But it had never been held without great cost.

The General pushed the rod back to it’s compact form and nodded. “Baltimare houses the Royal Mage College, your Majesty. With the help of all of those unicorns and the strong earth pony population, we can turn the city into a fortress in a matter of months. Once done, it will become a long and sharp thorn in our enemy’s side.” He pointed with his hoof now, Cadence following his motions. “Any forces from Roam attempting to cross the sea would have to breach our coastal defenses. Ideally, they would wish to follow the path of least resistance to the south, but that means going through Baltimare.”

His hooves darted to and fro, and Cadence marveled as he outlined each and every strategic reason. But in her heart, she could only feel dread. The meaning was more than merely clear to her. The General intended to bleed Twilight’s armies to buy their own time to regroup. Many would be lost in that kind of conflict… but she also knew that with what they had at this moment, there might be no other way.

For now, the land was locked in a prison of white. Snow, and ice dominated much of Equestria, but that weather would not remain forever. It would eventually thaw, it would melt, and then the dreadful force Twilight had made from the Changelings would swarm into her beloved lands. They needed more time. “Very well, General. I am putting my utmost faith in you,” she said softly, then turned to her husband.

Shining Armor looked grim, but quiet. “Shiny…” she began, slowly, but firmed up her voice. “Send word to the Empire.” She took in a deep breath, and exhaled. “We’re going to need the Crystal Heart.” Shining Armor gave her a startled glance, then nodded, quickly trotting away. The Empire would be buried in snow for a time, but there was no helping it. She was going to need every weapon she could muster… if she was to hope to make a difference.

“It’s cold out there,” Silver Spoon said softly, tying the knots of the tent flap extra tight behind her. She was always fussing over her these days but… Scootaloo couldn’t deny that she liked it. “Here, let me,” she insisted, gently tugging the cloak free of Scootaloo’s shoulders and carefully hanging it on one of the pegs on the cloak rack. The slightly damp wool coat she wore soon followed it. And then….

Scootaloo collapsed to her flank onto the soft bedroll, the warmth emanating from the center of the tent a balm. She felt so bloody tired. So exhausted from having to be this strange pony she didn’t recognize, but everyone seemed to expect. Soft, gentle forelegs encircled her chest from behind, and a different kind of warmth pressed up against her. “Yeah, it is,” Scootaloo softly whispered, leaning back into the comfort she wasn’t entirely sure she understood.

Silver Spoon’s cheek nuzzled to hers, and she didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She was the only one in camp that didn’t expect anything from Scootaloo except a laugh and a smile. She knew how much Scootaloo agonized over what she had lost. “It’s okay, Scoots,” Spoon whispered, and a gentle kiss touched her neck. It felt… kinda nice, actually. “It’s okay,” she said again and somehow… somehow Scootaloo could believe her.

“I miss them so much, Silver,” she whispered, shutting her eyes tight and turning in place to throw her own legs around Silver’s body. She needed… she couldn’t… “I just… I feel so cold.” They were half-baked words, swimming in a sea of emotions that sang strongly within the flame of her soul. A soul that cried out to understand what its purpose in life was now… now that everything had been ripped from her. What was she?

WHO was she?

And for the first time, she looked at Silver Spoon. Really looked at her, and saw the fire burning inside of her chest that was much like the one inside of her own. "You're our leader, Scootaloo. You're the one who keeps us together, because nopony else can." she whispered. And then Silver Spoon smiled, just a little, behind those mysterious jewel rimmed glasses of hers. She gently pulled them off and set them to one side, and nodded. “But I can help you a little with that. Just like you helped me.” Her voice was soft, and Scootaloo wondered where that bright glow in her eyes had come from. It wasn't unnatural, not like the darkness she’d seen in Sweetie’s eyes before the end. It was something else, some flash of emotion and… were those tears?

Silver Spoon’s eyes were slightly moist, reflecting the dim candle-light of the tent as she leaned in. “You don’t have to be cold, Scootaloo.” She half whispered.

And then, she kissed her. Right on the lips.

And Scootaloo didn’t feel quite so cold anymore.